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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582689">When You Know You Know</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MItCheLlInE/pseuds/Laziam'>Laziam (MItCheLlInE)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, And a bit of fluff, Character Death, M/M, Ziam Fantasy Fest, a bit of angst, but not permanent, zouis friendship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:26:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MItCheLlInE/pseuds/Laziam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the prompt for this story.</p>
<p>#39: When Zayn was little he was obsessed with the idea that doors could lead to different realities. They never did. As he's grown up he's forgotten this as a childhood fantasy. Until he opens a door and steps into a world that is DEFINITELY not his own.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zayn Malik/Liam Payne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ziam Fantasy Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When You Know You Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Firstly, I would like to thank the amazing MODs for organising this wonderful fic fest and also for giving me endless extensions. I am very sorry that I didn't submit on time. </p>
<p>Secondly, I would like to say a massive thank you to my lovely beta Sarah @twentseventats. Without her constant encouragement, nothing would have made it from my head to my document.</p>
<p>I would have liked to have spent a little more time on this story but I hope you will like it anyway, and the person, who submitted the prompt feels that I've done it justice.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zayn is a dreamer.</p>
<p>Not in the sense that he has big ideas and high aspirations for his future, though he does, and not that he spends long stretches of the day lost in thought. He does that, too. But the important thing to know about Zayn’s dreams—the ones that come at night—is that they are shockingly realistic. Sometimes he wakes up feeling ambushed by his own brain, which, when Zayn is at his most vulnerable, spins fantasies and mysteries that he would never be able to concoct while fully conscious.</p>
<p>Throughout his entire life, but especially in childhood, Zayn’s dreams have been the subject of much animated but fruitless discussion among his family. The theories have ranged from an overactive mind to attention-seeking behaviour. But whatever the reason, the reality is, Zayn dreams vividly, and mostly of scenarios that involve doors - red doors. No amount of research into what it might mean has ever produced anything useful. To his immense relief, however, the visions that used to occur nightly have more or less disappeared, in recent years, to the point where they were almost forgotten about. Until now...</p>
<p>Zayn</p>
<p>Zayn wakes with a start and it takes him a minute to clear his head. From somewhere in this room, the phone alarm has ripped him straight out of an extremely vivid dream... About a door, what else? He tries to remember details, but to no avail. As per usual, the single lasting image is that stupid contraption, big and old - and bright red. It would have been nice to be granted a glimpse behind it for once, but no. And he really thought he was done with all that. Almost three years without one, and now this. One thing’s for sure: he will not be sharing this with anyone in a hurry. </p>
<p>While he is bemoaning the return of his nemesis, the alarm keeps beeping away. His bleary eyes scan the room until they locate the offending device on a pile of discarded clothes. Scrambling out of bed, he promises himself for the umpteenth time not to drop his phone in random places. Why can he never put it on his nightstand, like a normal person? </p>
<p>Mumbling a string of profanities under his breath, he switches the alarm off and throws on some skinnies and a black t-shirt before skipping down the narrow staircase to the kitchen. A lingering smell of bacon hangs in the air, but Zayn doesn’t need that to know Louis had a large breakfast and has already left the house. The pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the trail of grease splattered along the counters speak for themselves. And it’s only Monday.</p>
<p>Louis is his best friend as well as his housemate. They met three years ago on the doorstep of this tiny terraced property, desperately searching for student accommodation. It turns out both lads are terrible procrastinators, who left it very late to secure somewhere to live before the start of uni. The landlord wanted one tenant, but after a full-on charm offensive from Louis and some well-placed arguments from Zayn, the guy agreed to let them share. Neither of them ever regretted that decision, although occasionally, like now, when Louis leaves their shared space resembling a battlefield, Zayn could come up with a few reasons as to why he should. He digs his phone out of his pocket, swipes to unlock, and opens a new message to Louis. </p>
<p>‘Honestly, Tommo ??? We talked about this !!!!’</p>
<p>To his surprise, there is an immediate response. ‘The kitchen?’</p>
<p>‘Obviously...sort it.’</p>
<p>Louis answers with ten kissy emojis and Zayn slips his phone back to his pocket, smiling fondly to himself.</p>
<p>The clock on the microwave tells him that he needs to get a move on if he wants to make it to the library ahead of his first lecture. So with a last scornful glance at Louis’ mess, he shoulders his bag, grabs a packet of crisps and a bottle of water from the cupboard, and heads out the door onto the quiet suburban road.</p>
<p>Although Zayn likes living at the outskirts of London, his one gripe about it would be the long commute into the city. It takes him the better part of an hour to arrive at the public library, which is still twenty minutes from his uni. On the upside, he gets there just as the first drops of October rain start to fall. His failure to put on a jacket could have meant an uncomfortable day in soggy clothes.</p>
<p>The red-bricked front section of the City Library is bustling with people reading, working, or simply browsing the expansive amount of shelves and stands, crammed with books of all colours and sizes. </p>
<p>A familiar voice rises above the general chatter. “Zayn, hello...come here.” </p>
<p>The voice belongs to Miriam, his favourite librarian. Her grey beehive is streaked with blue this week, and the sleeves of her rainbow-coloured folklore dress flap as she waves him over to the counter. </p>
<p>“I’m glad you’ve come in,” she beams. “I have that title you wanted, and I kept it behind for you.” With a conspiratorial wink, she hands him a large book.</p>
<p>“You’re a star, Miriam. This would have flown out the door had you not rescued it for me.” He signs out the book and makes his way from the modern part of the library straight down a short corridor to the back of the building, which houses the study area. Here the atmosphere is completely different.</p>
<p>The room is filled with a soothing stillness that never ceases to amaze him. The small tables meant for individual study, and surrounded by plush upholstered chairs, are made from the same dark-coloured wood as the floor to ceiling bookshelves, which hold seemingly endless amounts of leather-bound volumes. If it weren’t for the USB ports at the side of each table, you could be forgiven for thinking you’d been teleported to the Victorian era. Zayn’s favourite part, though, is the cast iron spiral staircase in the corner that winds itself up to the upper level where the oldest editions are displayed. He has a couple of hours, so he settles into a seat from which he can see the antique masterpiece and opens the book that Miriam gave him. It’s an anthology on 17th-century poetry and he is soon completely engrossed in its pages. </p>
<p>He couldn’t say how long he’d been reading when he gets distracted by a tickling at the back of his neck. The strange sensation continues to bug him even after he rubs his hand repeatedly over the area. Since the feeling is accompanied by a distinct grumbling in his stomach, he reaches for his crisps. But when he glances up, he can feel the blood drain from his face as he drops the unopened snack back into his bag. What he thinks he can see is simply impossible. He takes a sip from his water bottle, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. When he opens them again, the scene in front of him has not changed. Behind the ornate staircase is a door - his door. This can’t be happening. Maybe he needs to get his head examined? It’s one thing to have weird dreams, but quite another to ‘see’ things in the cold light of day.  </p>
<p>There is only one other person present, a lad with a mass of red curly locks, whom Zayn thinks he might recognise from uni. He is scrolling through his phone, bopping his head to whatever comes out of his AirPods. Zayn decides that he is unlikely to be studying, and before he can change his mind, he walks over to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.</p>
<p>“Excuse me, mate,” he says once the guy has removed one of the pods. “That door over there, behind the stairs, is new, right? Do you know what’s behind it?”</p>
<p>The guy regards him with a blank expression. “What? Dude, I don’t know what you’ve been smoking...I see no door.” With that, he pops his pod back in and continues to scroll.</p>
<p>Zayn sneaks another peek towards the staircase and yep, the bloody door is still there. He should probably go and check it out if only to confirm that he has indeed lost his marbles. Afraid of what he may discover, he goes to the front desk where Miriam is sorting through some new arrivals. He leans on the counter, waiting until she can give him her full attention.</p>
<p>“Zayn, what can I do for you?” she chirps.</p>
<p>“I’m really sorry to bother you,” he says as quietly as possible. “Can you come with me to the study hall, please? I want to ask you something...it’s...erm...a bit delicate.”</p>
<p>Miriam swiftly emerges from behind the counter and follows him, her curiosity clearly piqued. Zayn leads her to his table, turning towards her, suddenly unsure if he should proceed.</p>
<p>The librarian tilts her head and puts her hands on her hips. “What’s this about, young man?” </p>
<p>Zayn hesitates for another moment. “Nothing, I was just wondering about that new door over there,” he says, pointing in the general direction of the stairs.</p>
<p>Miriam glances to the relevant wall and then, holding him at arm’s length, she says sternly. “Is this a prank? In all the twenty-seven years I have worked here, I can assure you that there has never been a door in this room.” </p>
<p>When Zayn shakes his head wordlessly, her features soften. “My dear boy, you must be exhausted. I know your dissertation is coming up, but you need some rest. Trust me, a good night’s sleep will do wonders.” After giving him a last encouraging smile, she returns to her desk.  </p>
<p>He must admit that she could be right, so he gets his stuff together and heads for uni, turning back once to find the door gone. Of course, it has. It was merely a figment of his imagination.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>The day at uni has felt like it would never end, and Zayn is certain he hasn’t taken anything in. He’ll have to check the course podcasts. which can be more useful anyway.</p>
<p>By the time he gets home, he almost wishes that Louis won’t be in and that he can just go to his room and think about the events of the day. But fate is not on his side. As soon as he steps into the house, he is greeted by his beaming housemate.</p>
<p>“Zaynie, I’m glad you’re home. Take a load off your feet and make yourself comfortable. Tonight we’re having spaghetti bolognese a la Tomlinson on the menu - and may I point out - that’s your favourite.” Louis throws a dish towel over his shoulder and, with a theatrical gesture, ushers Zayn into the kitchen where the table is nicely set for the two of them.</p>
<p>Looks like his vision of a quiet evening alone with his thoughts will remain just that.</p>
<p>“What’s this all about then?” he asks, taking his usual seat at the tiny kitchen table.</p>
<p>“It’s about the mess I left you with this morning,” Louis says sheepishly.</p>
<p>That brings a smile to Zayn’s face. “You didn’t have to do that, Tommo. It was just that I was kinda late and then your crap was everywhere and well....you know.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know. When the gods above decided to throw us together, they didn’t bother to cross-check our vastly differing standards of order and cleanliness.” Louis grins as he puts the plates and two bottles of beer on the table, before plonking himself onto his chair.</p>
<p>“It’s delicious, Lou,” Zayn says truthfully. It’s a shame he’s not hungry though, because while spaghetti bolognese might be the only dish his friend knows how to prepare, he absolutely excels at it.</p>
<p>“What’s up, Zaynie?” Louis asks casually between two mouthfuls of food.</p>
<p>“Nothing...why?”</p>
<p>“Because you’re sitting there merely picking at my delectable food, and you’re mentally clearly miles away,” Louis points his fork at him.</p>
<p>Frowning, Zayn continues to stab at his spaghetti. “Would you say I’ve been in any way acting strange lately?”</p>
<p>Louis stops eating and leans back in his chair. “I’m gonna need you to be a tad more specific,” he says. “Do you mean literally or figuratively?”</p>
<p>Zayn puts his cutlery down. His desire to talk to someone about his worries overrides his embarrassment, and so he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You remember those dreams I told you about?”</p>
<p>Some months ago, they had exchanged ‘dark’ secrets during an all-night drinking session and the dreams had come up.</p>
<p>Louis looks confused for a moment, then his face lightens up. “The ones from when you were a kid...a red door or something?”</p>
<p>Zayn nods. </p>
<p>“What about them?“</p>
<p>Zayn rubs roughly at his face. “I’ve seen the door...today...in the library...in broad daylight.” Out loud the whole thing sounds even more ridiculous.</p>
<p>“Wow...not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.” Louis pushes his plate to one side and grabs his beer. “Have you been thinking about your family and that triggered it, or something like that?”</p>
<p>“No more than usual,” Zayn says, shaking his head. “Miriam thinks I’m overworked.”</p>
<p>“She might be right. You might have just been reacting to all the stress. I mean, that wouldn’t exactly be out of character would it?” Louis pats Zayn’s hand.</p>
<p>“Well, I wasn’t. I was doing my research and then the door appeared out of nowhere, in a place where there could never be one.”</p>
<p>“Did your work get to you?”</p>
<p>“Why would it? It’s research, Lou.” </p>
<p>“Dunno,” Louis quips, “depends on the research. How to convince our landlord to let us have a pet, or what the emotional fallout from the death of Iron Man on the general population might have been, are sensitive topics.”</p>
<p>“It’s not funny. I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but…” Zayn gives up on his food as well and moves both plates onto the counter by the sink. </p>
<p>“Sorry, Zaynie, sit down and let’s talk about this,” Louis says mildly.</p>
<p>Zayn can’t imagine what else there is to say, but he sits back down regardless. </p>
<p>“You know, there might be more things between heaven and earth than we’re aware of, as the cliche goes, and I do believe that’s true.” Louis appears to be serious.</p>
<p>Zayn is oddly encouraged by this. “You really think so?”</p>
<p>“I do,” Louis confirms. “Have you ever considered the existence of parallel universes?”</p>
<p>“Can’t say that I have, but I wouldn’t rule it out either,” Zayn says, surprising himself with that admission.</p>
<p>“There you go then. We’ll see what happens next and in the meantime, we’re gonna keep an open mind and re-evaluate your work-life balance.” Louis takes a sip from his bottle. “Speaking of which, I think we should go to the Halloween party at that new place in the West End. Can’t remember the name, but my mate says it’s great.”</p>
<p>“Do I have to? I remember last year’s and my head still hurts. Besides, I have stuff to do and if it’s a weeknight, I’m definitely not going.” Zayn doesn’t have an ounce of hope that Louis is going to take no for an answer, but it’s worth a try.</p>
<p>Predictably, his friend is having none of it. “That’s rubbish, it’s been at least a couple of months since you’ve had a decent night out. And as unlikely as it sounds, Zaynie, it’s this Saturday because it’s Halloween. Who knew, eh? Come on...go for me.”</p>
<p>Zayn can’t argue with that, and Louis did go to a lot of trouble tonight, after all, so he agrees to Louis’ plan. And he must admit that the conversation over dinner has made him feel a little less of a weirdo. </p>
<p>Liam</p>
<p>From one second to the next, the pain is gone. Liam feels light, floaty and terribly disorientated. Everything around him is grey and blurry. A desperate mental search for clues as to where he is and how he got here brings no results, at first. But then fragmented recollections begin to form a picture. He was on his way to somewhere, walking with Watson, his Great Dane, who rarely leaves his side...and it had been drizzling. Of all things, why would that be something worth remembering? Never mind, he needs to focus. For a while, hazy images drift like echoes through his head, but he is unable to pin any of them down. Then without warning, a vivid memory hits him. A group of men had jumped him, demanding his phone and wallet, and although he handed the objects over, his assailants turned violent. Watson did his best to come to his aid, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Then came the excruciating pain - and now he is here, wherever here is. </p>
<p>When his vision eventually clears, Liam finds himself in a hospital. Judging by the amount of medical staff and equipment, it’s probably A&amp;E or an operating theatre. </p>
<p>While he is still trying to wrap his head around this development, an authoritative female voice announces, “Time of death - 11:25 am.”</p>
<p>The medics step back from the patient, their voices hushed. Liam is standing right there, next to a bleeping machine, but nobody seems to notice him. It’s only when he reluctantly glances at the unfortunate person on the table, that he understands why: He is looking at his own body. His eyes are closed, his leather jacket and white t-shirt soaked in blood. </p>
<p>Liam looks down to his feet, discovering that he is not actually standing, as such. His body looks translucent as it hovers a few inches above the floor. Well, that explains a lot. He has seen enough situations like this in movies and TV shows to know that he is in the middle of a supernatural experience and that he is, according to the Doctor, very much dead.</p>
<p>This knowledge leaves him remarkably calm. Should he not feel more freaked out, seeing that it’s not every day that you get to look at yourself after you’ve drawn your last breath? Instinctively, he opens his mouth to ask for help but realises immediately how futile that would be. So, instead, all he can do is watch a nurse cover the other him with a sheet, and before he can wonder what will happen to him now, his vision fades again until blackness engulfs him. His last thought among the rapidly growing fuzziness in his brain belongs to Watson and what became of his loyal friend. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>The next time Liam is consciously aware of himself, a long hallway stretches out in front of him, much like any corridor that can be found in older office buildings. Black and white chequered linoleum covers the floor. On the magnolia painted wall to his right hangs a large sign that reads<br/>
‘Newcomers This Way’ inside an arrow pointing straight ahead. It looks oddly out of place with its beautiful cursive lettering. Guessing that instruction must be aimed at him, he sets off in the advised direction. He doesn’t meet anyone else on his travels, but he passes a few more signs, sending him this way and that until he arrives at a grey door with a small brass plaque, which says ‘MASTER OF KEYS - please wait’.</p>
<p>Master of Keys? What the hell is one of them? Apprehension bubbles in the pit of his stomach. Apparently, that still happens if you’re dead. In the absence of anything useful to do, he sinks onto the solitary metal folding chair beside the door. For the first time, he can take a moment to think. If he is indeed deceased, then the possibilities where this could be are limited. If this is Hell, it’s much more civilised than he’d imagined and if this is Heaven, it’s utterly disappointing. Where are the bright lights, the fluffy clouds and the celestial beings? He picks at his nails, trying to come up with a probable explanation. But who is he kidding? How could any of this be in any way described as probable? </p>
<p>He gets more and more agitated the longer he sits there with no idea what’s happening to him and nobody around to ask. On the upside, though, his clothes seem to have magically repaired and cleaned themselves. They look as good as the day he bought them. Even the small marker pen stain on his jeans has disappeared. </p>
<p>His head snaps when a whimper from somewhere nearby reaches him. It’s a sound he thought he would never hear again - Watson. Before he can doubt his senses, his beloved dog comes bounding down the corridor, snorting happily. They spend a few minutes greeting each other, and Liam’s tears fall freely. The Great Dane looks in perfect health and is just as spotless as Liam’s clothes. </p>
<p>“Where have you been, boy?” Liam muffles into the dog’s neck. Watson gives a little yap, wagging his tail a mile a minute, possibly wondering the same about his owner.</p>
<p>Suddenly the door swings open. “Step inside my office,” someone says.</p>
<p>Liam startles and scrambles off his seat. “Here...here...I’m here,” he babbles.</p>
<p>Holding Watson by his collar, he turns towards the speaker. A very small elderly man holds the door open, gesturing for him to enter. He is dressed in brown corduroy breeches, a green brocade waistcoat and a red velvet jacket. His head is covered in white clouds of tufty hair that sticks out in all directions. Albert Einstein meets Bilbo Baggins is what Liam would say if he had to describe him. However, despite his diminutive appearance, this must be the Master of Keys.</p>
<p>Liam sits down in a comfortable armchair, instructing Watson to lie down next to him, and while the man rounds an imposing teak desk to get to his seat, he takes a look around. The interior of the tiny office is in stark contrast to the decor outside. The windowless room is crammed with what appear to be antiques; not that Liam is an expert. At least twenty different clocks adorn the panelled walls, all of them displaying random times. Wooden cabinets of varying sizes fill every available space. But what’s most astonishing is the sheer amount of books and scrolls that are scattered everywhere from the furniture to the plush red carpet.</p>
<p>“So...” the strange little man starts absentmindedly, “you are…”</p>
<p>“Am I really dead...and where am I…what...?” Liam blurts out, but his voice trails off as the man waves his hand dismissively whilst rummaging through a pile of papers on his desk. </p>
<p>When he seems to have found what he is looking for, he addresses Liam. “You are Liam Payne, born on the 28th of August 1997 in Wolverhampton and died from a stab wound on the 26th of October 2020 in London. Is that correct?”</p>
<p>Liam gulps and gives a small nod. It sounds a lot more horrifying when presented as a fact.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” Liam asks quietly, still processing the confirmation of his demise. </p>
<p>“I am the Master of Keys,” the man says, smiling for the first time. </p>
<p>His confusion must show on Liam’s face because the Master continues his introduction. “I am the one who decides if you and your companion remain dead.”</p>
<p>If that statement was supposed to clear things up, it didn’t work. </p>
<p>“First of all, let’s talk about this fine fellow,” the Master says, pointing at Watson before Liam can ask for clarification. “We don’t see many animals here. This one must be exceptional.”</p>
<p>“He is,” Liam says with conviction. “But sir, where are we? Is this heaven?” he adds.</p>
<p>The Master chuckles at that. “Oh, dear me, no...even though I am an angel, I volunteered to work here, in the Special Cases Department. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t stand it up there any longer with all the righteous folk.”</p>
<p>“Ok...so... I’m guessing this is not hell either, so are we in purgatory?” Liam ventures.</p>
<p>“No, no, purgatory is the next building over. Dreadful place if you ask me. That’s where they drum up business for upstairs because they want to pat themselves on the back for every saved soul. No such problems downstairs. They don’t go out of their way to find their clients. But I digress; you are here because you are one of the chosen few for whom the boss upstairs has a special plan.”</p>
<p>“Special plan?” Liam’s head is swimming.</p>
<p>The Master wears an inscrutable expression, steepling his fingers under his chin. “Tell me, Liam, do you consider yourself to be a good person?”</p>
<p>Liam thinks carefully about his answer. “I don’t know...I’m just a regular guy. I’ve made mistakes, and I would most likely have made more given the chance. As it is…” Liam shrugs.</p>
<p>“Good, honesty; that’s what I’m looking for,” the Master says. “As I said, you’re part of his plan, which means that I will send you somewhere, and don’t worry, it’s a nice place. A bit different to what you’re used to, but still nice.”</p>
<p>Catching Liam’s expectant look, he giggles, “You have to forgive me. I don’t get many people through here, and I do like a chat.”</p>
<p>“What am I to do in this place, and can I take my dog?”</p>
<p>“Of course you can. We like to make our guests’ stay as pleasant as possible. Besides, there must be a reason why he’s here. As for your other query, you will have to find the key that will get you back to your life on earth.”</p>
<p>“The key?” Liam usually prides himself on his ability to speak eloquently, but here, in front of the Master, he seems to be restricted to uttering short phrases. </p>
<p>“Yes, your key. Remember that there is one that is specific to you. You will most likely meet other specials, who are searching for theirs, but each of you has only one bespoke key to find. You’ll know it when you see it.”</p>
<p>Although bewilderment is still Liam’s dominant emotion, he can’t help but be a little intrigued. “What you’re saying is, we won’t let death have the last word?”</p>
<p>The look he gets in response tells him that he is way off the mark.</p>
<p>“Son, let me tell you one thing. Death always has the last word.”</p>
<p>That puts a slight damper on Liam’s newfound enthusiasm, but it seems a small issue under the circumstances.</p>
<p>“What happens if I can’t find my key?”</p>
<p>The Master regards him with a grave expression. “That, my dear boy, is highly unlikely. It happens maybe once a century or so, and you absolutely don’t wish to know the consequences.”</p>
<p>“Right, in that case, I’ll better be successful...um...where do I go now?”</p>
<p>The Master’s face breaks into a mischievous smile as he jumps to his feet.</p>
<p>“Out the door, my boy, and good luck. I’ll be in touch when the time is right.”</p>
<p>Liam returns the smile and leads Watson back into the corridor. Closing the door behind them, he takes care not to slam it, and then it only takes a minute, before the now almost familiar darkness comes over him.</p>
<p>Zayn </p>
<p>As soon as Zayn wakes up, he wishes he hadn’t. Moments ago he’d been oh so close to finding out what’s behind that infernal red door. It was ajar, and he had his hand on the knob, ready to push it open. But then his alarm went off and the chance to find out more had gone. </p>
<p>Now he has his head under his pillow, lamenting his lot in life. Over the course of the last three days, there had been neither a door sighting nor dream, and he was beginning to believe that his experience at the library had been stress-related after all - until this morning. </p>
<p>Sighing heavily, he rolls out of bed, slips into his clothes and goes downstairs. It’s not normally like Zayn to skip classes, but today he has no intention of attending any lectures. He might as well watch some TV to distract himself from his mounting unease. But when he enters the living room, he finds Louis already on the battered leather sofa, holding a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone.</p>
<p>“Hey, Lou,” Zayn says, trying his best to sound chirpy. </p>
<p>“Ooh, Zaynie...come and sit,” Louis says without looking up, patting the seat beside him. </p>
<p>Zayn plonks himself next to his friend, slightly alarmed by the tone in Louis’ voice. When he sounds like that, he usually has something to say that he knows Zayn will probably object to.  </p>
<p>Louis looks at him now, his brows drawn tightly together. “Really, Malik? You’ve dressed all in black...again? Nothing wrong with black as such, but you need to switch it up a little.”</p>
<p>“It fits my mood.”</p>
<p>“Bollocks, nothing to do with your mood. Your fashion sense is diabolical, is what it is,” Louis says, with a glint in his eyes.</p>
<p>Then his face splits into a gleeful grin that alarms Zayn even more. “I’ve done a thing.” </p>
<p>“What now?” Zayn isn’t sure he actually wants the answer to that.</p>
<p>“I have ordered our Halloween costumes,” Louis announces proudly.</p>
<p>“And when did I ask you to do that?” Zayn asks, already resigned to his fate.</p>
<p>“You didn’t, but you would have if you’d given the matter even one ounce of thought.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you think I’ve enough ghostly stuff going on as it is? I’m really not sure if I’m going...I’ve got too many-”</p>
<p>“Oh, you’re going,” Louis butts in. “These outfits cost a bomb to hire and besides, I feel personally responsible for finding you a decent social life. You never know - you might actually meet someone nice.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to meet anyone,” Zayn mutters. He knows Louis means well, but sometimes he can be a real menace. Zayn hasn’t had a meaningful relationship in quite a while because it has never felt right, which is a fact that Louis flatly refuses to acknowledge.</p>
<p>“Honestly, bro, my 72-year-old grandmother gets more action than you. Have I told you that she met a wonderful distinguished gentleman at the tea dance? No? Well, she has, and she is a damn sight less attractive than you.”</p>
<p>“Thanks for the compliment - I guess.” Zayn smiles despite himself. “But that’s not a nice thing to say about your Nan.”</p>
<p>“Never mind, the point is, you have to come to that party. I’ll be Captain Jack Sparrow cause I’m so swashbuckling, and you’ll be Will Turner cause you’re so smooth and dashing, and if you don’t hook up with anyone in that get-up, I’ll give up.” Louis throws his hands up in a theatrical gesture.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay...you win. You know where it is yet?”</p>
<p>Louis rubs his hands, grinning shamelessly. “Yep, it’s somewhere on Neal Street, and it’s called The Scarlet Witch. Looks awesome on the website.”</p>
<p>Zayn nods, closing his eyes and leaning back into the comfortable cushions as he slowly digests the fact that he has suddenly plans for Halloween, complete with pressure to pull. Thanks, Lou!</p>
<p>Louis puts his cereal bowl and phone on the coffee table. Tucking his foot under one leg, he turns to Zayn. “Wanna talk about it?”</p>
<p>“Hm?” Zayn opens his eyes.</p>
<p>“Wanna tell me whatever it is that’s eating you up?” Louis asks, briefly squeezing Zayn’s thigh.</p>
<p>Zayn sits up straight. It’s incredible how Louis can tune into Zayn’s emotions and identify them perfectly, mere moments after he bulldozed him with his unwanted party plans. </p>
<p>“I had another dream about that fucking door. Except this time, it was slightly open. I’m losing the plot; there’s no other explanation.”</p>
<p>“Interesting…” Louis pinches his bottom lip between his fingers. “You realize what that means, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Zayn shakes his head.</p>
<p>“It means you need to return to the library. I reckon the door will show up.”</p>
<p>“You’re taking me seriously?” Zayn can’t believe what he’s hearing.</p>
<p>“I figure I have two choices. Either I take you seriously and we solve this mystery, or I don’t believe in you and I have to get you locked up. Consequently, I would be in this house by myself, and I can’t afford that.”</p>
<p>Zayn playfully punches Louis on the arm.</p>
<p>“But joking aside, you have to go back and investigate. You’ve never spotted that door anywhere else, so it must be fixed to that location. And this time, you need to man up and try to open the damn thing. It’s probably a portal or whatever. In any case, you either find something amazing, or it’s simply a wall, which would be shit for you. But know this, babe, I’ll stand by you, whatever happens.” </p>
<p>“Thank you, Tommo, you’re the best. I think I’ll go now...no time like the present, eh?” Zayn gives Louis a confident smile, even though his stomach is in knots. He should eat something, but that would most likely repeat on him and so he picks his jacket off the back of the kitchen chair and heads to the city. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>The library is fairly quiet when he arrives. Only a few visitors wander between the bookshelves, which is probably the reason why Miriam waves to him as soon as he enters.</p>
<p>“There you are, Zayn,” she says with a fond smile. “I hope the fact you haven’t been here for a few days means that you got some rest.” Her streaks are blue today and her knitted dress is covered in golden leaves. They remind Zayn of teardrops, but that could just be his morose state of mind. </p>
<p>“I’m fine, Miriam, honestly. The exam stress must be getting to me.”</p>
<p>“Ah, and I have something to help with that.” Miriam rummages in her enormous bag and pulls out a round metal container. “I’ve brought you some herbal tea bags. My daughter swore by them whenever she had an examination.” </p>
<p>Zayn doesn’t have the heart to tell her that the last cup of tea he had was probably when he was about eight and his mum gave it to him to soothe a sore throat. He awards her a grateful smile, takes the tea and gathers her into a hug. “You’re too good to me.”</p>
<p>“Oh...don’t mention it.” She pats his hand and shoos him towards the study room.</p>
<p>Luckily, there is nobody else around and he can take up his surveillance at his usual table. He chucks his jacket over a chair, glancing at the wall behind the staircase, unsure what he wants the outcome to be. Unsurprisingly, there is nothing...just a wall. Feeling the need to do something, though, he takes a random book from the shelf behind him. </p>
<p>‘A Short History Of British Psychology’ Great!</p>
<p>He shoves the book back into its slot and starts to repeatedly unscrew and tighten the lid of the tea tin. He should have brought his laptop, if only to keep up appearances, instead of looking like a complete idiot. When he is pretty much ready to throw in the towel, the lid slips from his hand and rolls away. Cursing under his breath, he follows the wayward object until it comes to rest in front of the wall he’s been staring at for the past half hour. As he reaches for the lid, he glances upwards and he stiffens. Where there should be beige paint, is dark red wood. He doesn't have to look up to recognise his door. His first instinct is to run and hide, but Louis’ words ring in his ears and he slowly rises to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. He tentatively puts his trembling hands on the rough surface, pressing lightly. The door doesn’t budge. Zayn pushes again, this time with more conviction, and all at once, what he thought he knew about the world is no longer true. </p>
<p>Behind the door is a garden, right in the middle of an inner-city library. But that’s not even the weirdest thing. No, that would be the fact that everything in front of him is devoid of colour. Glancing around, he takes a few resolute steps forward. To his right, a large bench seat hangs from a thick oak branch. Sinking down on the wooden slats, Zayn takes numerous deep breaths before his brain finds enough momentum to properly take in his surroundings. </p>
<p>This garden looks like the motif on a picture postcard, with the greyscale ambience giving it the feel of a bygone era. There are leafy trees and luscious grass as far as the eye can see, but the balmy breeze definitely doesn’t tie in with the current London weather. The sound of birdsong fills the air, although there’s not a single feathered friend to be seen. Everything about this situation is most bizarre and, at the same time, doesn’t feel in any way threatening. </p>
<p>He takes a quick peek over his shoulder, and to his great relief, the door is still there, albeit closed. Hopefully, his discarded jacket will be safe in the library and Miriam won’t be worried by the abandoned tea tin. Also, he should really have taken his phone and wallet with him. All these thoughts, as valid as they are, seem rather weird considering the circumstances. </p>
<p>There is a winding footpath leading away from the garden through an alley of willow trees. Should he keep sitting here and wait for something to happen, or should he take a leap into the unknown and follow the path? The pros and cons stack up pretty evenly in his head, which leads to him staying glued to the bench. </p>
<p>Then, from somewhere beyond the trees, a faint yelping reaches him. Surely he must be mistaken? The answer arrives in the form of a huge dog hurtling in his direction. It comes to a halt next to Zayn, nudging his leg and wagging his tail. </p>
<p>“Hey, you...where do you come from?” Zayn strokes the dog’s head. The animal is a Great Dane, whose fur is glossy and silky despite being as colourless as everything else in this place. </p>
<p>While Zayn is still deciding what to do with his new mate, Watson starts to bark, running back and forth between Zayn and the entrance to the path. His first thought is to follow the dog. He gets to his feet, but before he can take a step, another unexpected sound roots him to the spot. </p>
<p>This time it’s a human voice. “Watson! Waaatson!! Where are you? Don’t do this to me.”</p>
<p>Next thing Zayn knows, a guy about his age comes sprinting down the path. His breath comes in short gasps like he’s been running for a while, but that’s not what catches Zayn’s attention. Instead, it’s the set of dark brown eyes that are looking straight at him now. </p>
<p>The young man regulates his breathing, shaking his head in apparent disbelief, “Oh my God...how?”</p>
<p>Liam</p>
<p>To say that Liam has been bewildered by the things that happened to him since he left the MOK’s office, would be an understatement. When the blackness had cleared, he and Watson stood in an old farmhouse and everything, including him and the dog, was entirely in monochrome. It had taken him a while to wrap his head around that, but eventually, he decided that normality was probably a thing of the past for him. With renewed energy, he began his search for that key, even outside in the yard and in the adjacent barn, but to no avail. Watson had been, as always, a great help, but even he could not come up with anything useful. </p>
<p>At one point, a man in his 60’s or so passed by the fence, waved and wished him good luck. Liam had hoped to stop him and ask some questions, but the man carried on walking, obviously following his own agenda. After that, they had been to a picturesque lake, surrounded by snow-covered mountains, a cosy coffee shop in a cobbled lane and a graveyard, which was immaculately kept but, in Liam’s opinion, in slightly bad taste. However, as different as those settings were, they all had certain elements in common. It had always been daylight, the weather had been perfect, the change in scenery always happened via a kind of mini blackout, and apart from the fleeting run-in with the man at the farm, he hadn’t encountered a single living thing.</p>
<p>If Watson hadn’t been his constant companion, he is convinced he would be feeling rather lonely by now, especially since he has no concept whether he has been wandering from location to location, hunting for the elusive item, for hours, days or even weeks. His watch, which his attackers had somehow overlooked, is no longer working and the passing of time doesn’t seem to be a thing in these parts anyway. </p>
<p>The latest setting for his adventure is a sprawling beach. Golden dunes rise and fall to his left as gentle waves lap onto the sand to his right. Watson enjoys himself delving in and out of the water and Liam fondly recalls visiting sea fronts like this with his family when he was young. </p>
<p>Then something unexpected becomes visible a few metres ahead of him. A person is sitting at the foot of a dune, gazing out onto the ocean. When he comes nearer, Liam can see that it’s a young woman in shorts and a flowery blouse. He calls Watson to heel and hurries towards the woman in case she, like everyone else so far, will get up and leave before he can say anything.</p>
<p>Fortunately, she stays where she is and even smiles in his direction.</p>
<p>“Hey, do you mind if I sit with you for a moment?” Liam asks politely.</p>
<p>“Of course,” she says, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear.</p>
<p>Liam lowers himself onto the sand beside her and Watson lies down a short distance away. Whilst the dog is generally friendly, he is guarded when it comes to strangers.</p>
<p>“Um...my name’s Liam. Sorry to bother you, but you’re literally the first person that doesn’t wave and run.”</p>
<p>The woman gives him a sympathetic glance. “I’m Nia, nice to meet you. Don’t be mad at the other Specials...we’re all just trying to find our keys. I’m sitting here because I’ve chosen to rest for a bit. I love the coast.”</p>
<p>Liam nods. “Me too...erm...would it be rude to ask how you got here? I got stabbed.” His voice wobbles a little. Evidently, he still isn’t quite used to talking about his death. </p>
<p>Nia turns her head to face him and in spite of the whole black and white situation, her eyes are clearly filled with sadness. “I was on my way to have lunch with some friends when I got knocked off my bike by a drunk driver. I couldn’t tell you how long ago that happened though.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’ve noticed that time doesn’t exist here, and I’m really sorry you didn’t get to see your friends. It’s funny, but, food and sleep are some of the stuff I miss most about...you know...being alive.”</p>
<p>“Same,” Nia says wistfully. “Speaking of time, did you notice your clock when you were in the Master’s office? I reckon there is a clock with every Special’s hour of death.”</p>
<p>So the clocks may not have been random after all. Makes sense in a macabre sort of way. “Yes, I did see them, but I must admit, I just thought they were quirky decorations,” he says.</p>
<p>“You could be right,” Nia muses. “I might be overthinking it. It does get lonesome around here. At least you have your dog.”</p>
<p>“Thing is, it’s so unfair that we have no clue whatsoever what any of these keys look like,” Liam says bleakly. “Have you ever encountered anyone I’m who found theirs?” </p>
<p>Nia purses her lips. “No, I haven’t, but still, we are lucky to be here. From what I’ve discovered so far, I gather that we cannot help one another with the search and we can’t go to the same place twice.”</p>
<p>“That’s valuable information for sure...thank you, Nia. I will -” Liam starts but gets distracted by Watson, who is standing stock-still, his ears pricked. </p>
<p>“What’s up boy? Can you hear something?” Liam asks although he can’t envision what kind of sound could interest the dog so much. </p>
<p>By way of an answer, Watson races off through the dunes, yelping as he disappears into the distance. Liam can only say a hasty goodbye to Nia and rush after him because there is absolutely no way he will be separated from his pet.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Watson has never run away from him before and Liam is confused as to what might be causing this behaviour now. Hopefully, the key is not anywhere back at the beach and the dog will not cross over into another scene without his owner. However, before he can formulate another thought, the world goes dark and then light again in quick succession. He finds himself standing on a gravelled path which is flanked by majestic willow trees in bloom. But that’s of no interest to him right now, because to his utter relief his dog appears to have crossed into this location as well. He can hear him yelping further along, and being a bit of an accomplished runner, Liam sprints to find his friend.</p>
<p>“Watson! Waaatson!! Where are you? Don’t do this to me.” Contrary to his expectations, Liam rapidly starts to feel out of breath, his lungs burning. Maybe his fitness levels are not as high as he imagined. On the other hand, what can be expected from someone who is technically dead?</p>
<p>Mercifully, the path leads into a pretty country garden, and in this garden is Watson, his head resting in some guy’s lap. What?! He never does that with strangers. Liam closes his eyes for a second, trying to steady himself, and when he thinks he has regained control, he opens them again, and his brain is in danger of shutting down altogether. Not only is the man on the bench stunning; he also doesn’t seem to be affected by the general lack of colour Liam has become so used to of late. The most astonishing thing though is, that the handsome face in front of him, is one that he has been gazing at on countless occasions throughout his life. </p>
<p>“Oh my God...how?” he blurts out, shaking his head. </p>
<p>“Hi,” the guy says, offering Liam a blinding smile. “I don’t know how your dog got here but he’s ace.”</p>
<p>Liam clears his throat. “I don’t mean the dog; I mean you. You can’t be real...how are you real?”</p>
<p>The guy looks confused and Liam can’t blame him. “I’m definitely real. My name is Zayn.”</p>
<p>Zayn, that figures. A gorgeous name for a gorgeous man. Strangely enough, Liam had never given him a name when he meticulously etched his features onto paper. </p>
<p>“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”</p>
<p>“Try me...have a seat.” Zayn motions to the bench swing. “You seem to think that we’ve met before, but I can assure you that we haven’t. I would positively recall that…”</p>
<p>Liam gingerly settles himself next to him. Zayn is not flirting with him, is he? There’s a blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, but then he remembers that he presently looks rather strange, and his momentary excitement fades. “Oh yeah, a guy without colour, I guess anyone would remember that.”</p>
<p>“Nah, not talking about that. I would’ve remembered you for you. Plus, you're not entirely without colour. I can see your alluring brown eyes. ”Zayn smiles again and his fingers brush lightly over Liam’s hand.</p>
<p>At that, Liam’s face turns a solid shade of crimson as he shudders under his touch. He can’t get his head around this. Zayn is real...actual flesh and blood.</p>
<p>“Alluring? My eyes?” he echoes. “You can see my eyes...in colour?”</p>
<p>Zayn nods at every one of those babbled questions and Liam struggles to understand why this would be such a revelation to him, when there is a much bigger bombshell to consider. In the end, he opts to take the bull by the horns.</p>
<p>“What I’m about to tell you is gonna sound really creepy, but here it is anyway. I have been drawing your face over and over when I was at school. Whenever the teacher told us to create portraits of a friend or family member, I drew you.”</p>
<p>“Wow...I wish I could see some of those drawings,” Zayn says, now also with a rosy tint to his cheeks and absentmindedly scratching Watson’s head, which is still in his lap. “Believe it or not, I have a freakish tale of my own to tell.” </p>
<p>“Go on,” Liam prompts. </p>
<p>Zayn pauses briefly, in all likelihood looking for the right words. Then he says,” I’ve been dreaming about that door over there as long as I can remember. There was a period in which the dreams disappeared, but recently they’ve returned with a vengeance.”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure which door you mean?” Liam says carefully, so not to offend Zayn and make him leave.</p>
<p>“That massive red door behind us,” Zayn starts, pointing over his shoulder but when Liam’s expression stays completely blank, he adds,” You can’t see it...can you?” </p>
<p>“No, I’m sorry...I only see this garden, and the only colour I see...is you,” Liam says, his voice fading at the last words. </p>
<p>Zayn shrugs helplessly while Liam grapples with the realisation that instead of clearing things up, everything Zayn says leads to more questions, and one of them is more burning than the rest. </p>
<p>“You’re in full colour and you came in from the real world through a door that only you can see? So, you’re not dead then?”</p>
<p>“Dead?” Now it’s Zayn’s turn to be perplexed. “Why would I be dead? Are you saying that you are -?”</p>
<p>“I’m dead, yes,” Liam helps him out and then proceeds to fill Zayn in on everything that he’s been through, from the moment he was attacked to him chasing after Watson and ending up in this garden.</p>
<p>Zayn shakes his head frequently, pulling the occasional WTF face, but he doesn’t interrupt. </p>
<p>“And you have no concept of what this key looks like?” is the first thing he says. Followed by, “I’m sure you would’ve gotten that job.”</p>
<p>Liam giggles. “That’s not terribly high on my priority list any more, but thank you. It was a bar job in the West End, nothing fancy. As for the key...nope, not the foggiest. But this can’t be a coincidence. Your dreams of a door that guides you to this place, and me drawing you and then finding you here. I’m certain that you’re here to help me. What do you think?”</p>
<p>“Your theory is as good as any, let’s find the damn thing.” Zayn gets to his feet, gently moving Watson away from him. </p>
<p>Zayn makes good on his promise, and together they search the entire garden including the visible part of the path. Every so often they take a break on the swing and chat. Liam has never met anyone like Zayn in his life. Somehow they click immediately, and it emerges that they have a lot in common, from their love of animals and art to an almost identical taste in movies and music. Once in a while, they get so wrapped up in their conversation that they forget to continue their search and it falls to Watson to remind them of their task with a few well-placed barks. </p>
<p>In the end, having rooted under every bush and through every patch of grass, they sink back into the swing, admitting defeat. What started as such a hopeful mission, turned out to be just another red herring. Granted, there was never a guarantee that he would find success here, but meeting Zayn and spending time with him had felt so significant. Liam had been so sure...and now? He can feel panic zipping through his heart because he knows what will happen shortly. Maybe he should try and enjoy what little time he has left with Zayn.</p>
<p>“Hey, Liam...you ok?” Zayn’s words cut through his musings. </p>
<p>“Yeah, sorry I’ve wasted your day.”</p>
<p>Zayn turns towards Liam, putting his hand on his arm. “You haven’t; this was possibly the best day of my life. Don’t worry about the bloody key; I’ll help you again tomorrow.”</p>
<p>If only that were an option. Liam looks down at his lap, slowly shaking his head, “I can’t go to the same location twice. Once I’ve left here; that’s it.”</p>
<p>“Then don’t go. Stay here and I’ll come back to you.” Zayn tightens his grip on Liam’s arm.</p>
<p>Liam keeps his eyes downcast. “Us Specials cannot go to any location twice, so this here...right now...this is it. I can already feel the darkness approaching.”</p>
<p>“No...it can’t be...I’ve just found you.” Zayn jumps up. “Maybe the door will lead me to you again. Because if not, what was this all about?”</p>
<p>“I wish I knew, but please believe me that I will never forget you.” Liam comes to stand by him, tenderly running his finger down his cheek. He would give anything to stay in this moment forever, but he has to go. Behind him, Watson is whimpering. He can feel the impending change as well. </p>
<p>But Zayn doesn’t seem to be ready to let go yet. He takes Liam’s hand, rubbing a thumb across his palm. “I wanna ask...before I lose you I mean...I wanna...can I kiss you?”</p>
<p>The forlorn expression in Zayn’s eyes renders Liam unable to respond. All he can do is nod and surrender to Zayn’s lips. The kiss invades all his senses at once, gradually turning from slow and exploratory to desperate, and as the heat explodes in his chest, Liam even manages to momentarily block out his misery, but when he finally succumbs to the darkness, Zayn fades from his embrace and the last thing he is aware of, are the hot tears pouring down his face.</p>
<p>Zayn </p>
<p>“And you’re absolutely sure you didn’t just flake out over your book and fell asleep? I imagine ‘‘A Short History Of British Psychology’ isn’t exactly a page-turner. Louis regards Zayn with a certain degree of scepticism. </p>
<p>“No, you tit, I was not asleep and Liam was not a dream, an apparition or a hallucination. He was there and he was real and he was amazing and so beautiful. You said you have my back...doesn’t look like it to me.” </p>
<p>Zayn crosses his arm over his chest, staring at Louis with as much hostility as he can muster. Deep down he knows that his friend is trying to support him really, but Zayn is several bottles of lager into a sorrow drowning session, and Louis’ words are irritating him more than they would if he wasn’t under the influence.  </p>
<p>They’re sitting facing each other in their kitchen, a sizable amount of empty lager bottles between them. Neither of them is drunk per se, but Zayn feels decidedly sorry for himself, and Louis doubting that his trauma is based in reality is upsetting him. </p>
<p>“Okay, okay...okay,” Louis hushes him. “I’m just astonished that you flirted with someone...you...Zayn Malik. I’ve been trying to get you to up your seduction game for God knows how long, and then you go and sweet-talk some guy as if you’re a pro?”</p>
<p>Louis does have a point. Zayn couldn’t believe it either how he all of a sudden found himself wanting to tell Liam his entire life story. Normally he is pretty cagey when it comes to his personal stuff and apart from his family and Louis, people rarely get an insight into his inner workings. </p>
<p>Louis must take Zayn’s silence as an invitation to churn out some more wise words because leans forward, his hands clasped in front of him. “Right, let me summarise. You went through a door that shouldn’t exist, entered a mysterious world in which everything was entirely monochromatic, met a guy, who used to draw you and proceeded to kiss him right after he told you he’s a ghost or a spirit or whatever. Then, during that kiss, he disappeared into thin air, and you transported back to your seat in the library without moving a muscle...oh, and there was a dog...correct so far?”</p>
<p>“You forgot that time in the real world didn’t move at all. It was as if I’d never gone through the door,” Zayn says tartly.</p>
<p>Can he really be angry at his friend for being doubtful? He gets up to clear the empty bottles from the table, sorting them into the relevant recycling box. Tidying is one of his main stress relief mechanisms; he can’t help it. </p>
<p>“Stop that, you’re making me nervous.” Louis waves him back to the table. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super on board with you taking an interest in somebody, but I thought that when you do, they might be a little more...erm... alive.”  </p>
<p>Zayn plops back down onto his chair, wincing at Louis’ words, “He is alive, or he will be, once he finds that fucking key. I understand that you don’t understand, but I need to find him, and at the same time, I know that he’s gone. What should I do, Tommo?”</p>
<p>Louis whistles. “You really do have it bad, babe. I’ve never seen you this emotionally destroyed. Maybe your idea has merit and the door will lead you to Liam regardless of where he is?” </p>
<p>“I don’t know, Lou. All I know is that Liam and I belong together. That may sound dramatic to you, but I can only describe what I’m feeling. When I kissed him, everything made perfect sense. I love him, and you can call me crazy if you want, but remember I’ve always said that in the past people didn’t feel right? Well, he does. When you know, you know. I see that now.” </p>
<p>Louis blinks slowly. “In that case, there’s only one thing for it. You have to go back and see what happens.”</p>
<p>“But what if the door won’t appear, or he’s not there? What then?” Zayn asks with a note of hysteria in his voice.</p>
<p>“I think you have to believe he’ll be there,” Louis says, tapping his index finger against his cheek. “First thing tomorrow, you must give your lectures a miss and go to the library. And even if you don’t find him, you’ll know you’ve done your best. Otherwise, you’ll always wonder what could have happened. But do me a favour; wear something more cheerful, just in case your dream man miraculously turns up.”</p>
<p>Zayn sighs heavily. “I want him to have his life back. He deserves that, but he needs that key. We searched everywhere, Lou.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s sorta my field of expertise.” Louis grins. “Anyone, who’s ever been to my room, knows I’m a little messy. But you know what? You find the things you need when you’re not looking for them. Tell him that as a top tip from me.”</p>
<p>“A little messy?” Zayn has to smile at that. “By the way, I don’t know if I’ll be up for that Halloween party tomorrow. I’m so sorry, I’ll give you the money for my costume when I get paid.”</p>
<p>“Don’t you worry, Zaynie, given your predicament, I’ll let that one slide. I’ve been round to the pub though, and it looks fab. The decor is proper spooky and they have a really old red do -” Louis’ eyes widen. “Shiiit, they have your door. It’s just as you keep describing it. Why didn’t I make that connection sooner?”</p>
<p>Suddenly, an epiphany strikes Zayn like a bolt of lightning. “That’s it! Liam was on his way to a job interview at a pub in the West End. Neal Street is in the West End, and there is a pub with my door. We were gonna go there tonight, and Liam would have been behind the bar. That was our destiny, until Liam got...got...taken. Oh my God, he has to find his key.”</p>
<p>“You’re right, that’s no coincidence. Go get some kip, and tomorrow, go get your man. Louis reaches across the table to smack a kiss on Zayn’s cheek.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>After a night filled with endless tosses and turns, Zayn crawls out of bed and, heading Louis’ advice, throws on his white palm tree print shirt with a pair of grey jeans. He doesn’t bother with breakfast because his body is filled with too much nervous energy, and if that isn’t bad enough, the tube ride to the city seems agonisingly slow. Despite that, he arrives at the library exactly at opening time. Luckily, Miriam is not on duty today. Zayn doesn’t think that on this occasion, he could cope with her charming, yet sometimes a bit intrusive conversations.</p>
<p>By another stroke of good fortune, nobody else makes their way to the study hall, and Zayn can occupy his usual seat opposite the iron staircase. He is determined not to drop his guard, opting instead to fiddle with a biro that someone has left on the table, whilst keeping his eyes trained on the wall. His thoughts are all over the place, half hoping he will be able to see Liam and half despairing over the knowledge that this hope is most likely in vain.</p>
<p>An hour or so into his mission, he hears loud voices from the front and he anxiously cranes his neck to see if anyone is approaching, but thankfully, the noisy group peeks into the study room and decides not to enter.</p>
<p>He is about to resume his vigil when the same prickling sensation he’d felt the other day, now covers the skin on his arms. Instinctively, he knows that the door is there. With shaky hands, he puts the pen down and rushes towards it. To his surprise, it opens almost by itself, letting him pass before it closes again just as easily. </p>
<p>Whatever hopes he had to find a location where Liam might be, are instantly shattered when he finds himself standing in the garden with the swing. He sits down on the edge of the seat, his panicked breathing loud in his ears. How could he have been so stupid? How could he let himself have hope against hope that Liam would be here? Listening to his own sobs, he buries his face in his hands as yet again the tears start rolling down his cheeks.</p>
<p>Logically, he knows he should leave, but he can’t bring himself to get up. The big questions of what the purpose of it all was, and why the door is here today, circle relentlessly through his mind. He is so distracted, that at first he misses the soft whining, and it is not until the whining turns into excited barking that he realises Watson is sitting next to him with Liam standing a little to the side.</p>
<p>“Liam,” is the sole word able to struggle through the tightness of his throat. </p>
<p>Zayn jumps up and simply sinks into Liam’s outstretched arms. They hold each other for a second and Zayn senses that Liam is as overjoyed as he is.</p>
<p>“Oh God, I love you, Zayn.” Liam chokes out as if to prove that point. “Don't ask me how I know, but I know. I just need to tell you before everything goes to shit again. I’m aware it sounds crazy.”</p>
<p>Zayn takes a step backwards, wiping his eyes with his wrist. “Nothing crazy about it, and you don’t have to explain yourself because I love you too,” he sniffles.</p>
<p>“None of the Specials has ever been anywhere twice, as far asI know. And yet, here I am. It’s all Watson's doing, though. He picked up your scent and then there was no stopping him.” Liam lovingly pushes a strand of hair from Zayn’s forehead. </p>
<p>“You still haven’t found the key?”</p>
<p>Liam’s face falls. “No, and I don’t think I ever will.”</p>
<p>Zayn reaches out to try and comfort Liam, when a strange little man materialises amidst a puffy white cloud. Zayn retreats, startled. He thought nothing could confound him now, but it would seem he thought wrong. </p>
<p>“Ah, young Liam and...um...Watson. Congratulations on finding your key. I will make arrangements for your immediate return to earth,” he says jovially.</p>
<p>“But...but excuse me, sir, I haven’t found it yet. There must be a mistake,” Liam declares. </p>
<p>“I don’t make mistakes,” the little guy says without venom. “However, I’m forgetting my manners. Zayn, let me introduce myself, I’m the Master Of Keys. I believe Liam has mentioned me.”</p>
<p>“You know my name?” Zayn has difficulty keeping up with the developments. </p>
<p>“I know everything,” the Master informs him, grinning. If he weren’t so jolly and polite, Zayn would find him decidedly arrogant.</p>
<p>Liam is still standing where he was, sporadically uttering things like “But I haven’t” or “Surely an error?” </p>
<p>The Master’s gaze flicks from one young man to the other and his grin widens. Apparently the confusion amuses him. “I’ll better explain,” he starts. “The two of you should have met today, Halloween. I could say so many things about Halloween, but that won’t put your minds at rest, so I won’t deviate. Liam, you were supposed to start your job at the pub, which is the same establishment where Zayn and his friend would have attended the Halloween party. You would have met and things would have taken their intended path. However, your misfortune changed the course of events, and I had to resort to these measures to get you together.”</p>
<p>Neither Zayn nor Liam must look any more enlightened than before his explanation because the Master gives a little chuckle and adds, “Zayn is your key, young man. When you declared your love for each other, you restored your destinies.”</p>
<p>“But won’t my family be really shocked if I suddenly come back from the grave?” Liam looks flushed and irrespective of what’s going on, Ziam thinks that’s really cute.</p>
<p>“Nobody will be shocked,” the Master reveals. “I will send you back to the 26th of October to the precise moment before it all went wrong, and you don’t have to be concerned about your would be assailants. They have been apprehended for other serious crimes and are serving life sentences as we speak.” </p>
<p>Zayn can’t quite comprehend what he is hearing, but what he got from all this is that he and Liam can be together which is all that matters as far as he’s concerned. </p>
<p>“Could we not go to the pub together, seeing that we already know each other?” Zayn asks.</p>
<p>The Master twirls his enormous moustache. “Ah, that’s the snag. Nobody will be able to recall a single thing that happened in the last five days. Not your friends and families and not yourselves. However, in this instance, there is someone, who will remember every detail. Isn’t that right, Watson?”  </p>
<p>The dog affectionately licks the Master’s hand before he sits by Liam’s side and looks up, his head tilted. </p>
<p>The little man strokes the animal’s head. “The secret is safe with you, I assume?</p>
<p>Zayn leans into Liam for another kiss and he could swear that Watson gives an affirmative nod.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks a million for reading. Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed it. xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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